Breaking The Ice
by NenyaBlackWood
Summary: When a slip at work leaves Jasper wounded, he reluctantly resorts to going to the hospital, despite his fear of needles. Will a handsome doctor provide the perfect distraction from the phobia for him, as well as making his Christmas that much more wonderful? SLASH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Everything else is from my imagination.**

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><p><strong>Breaking The Ice<strong>

**Chapter One**

He didn't know why he subjected himself to a life in such a cold climate. While Jasper stood shin deep in the snow, the crystals of ice swirling around him both natural and man-made, his hands were steady despite the chills running through him. No amount of thermal underwear could keep the Alaska cold away for long, but there was just something about the fresh air and the clean canvas sheet of the country that appealed to him.

Jasper had only intended to spend a few years there, perhaps three at the most, while he studied at the University of Alaska, but those three years had soon turned into fourteen all too quickly and now at the age of thirty two, he found he couldn't leave. Perhaps it was the near solitude of a desolate landscape that drew him in, so different from the busy town life he'd been raised in. When he'd first packed his belongings and travelled the thousands of miles from his childhood home in Houston, Texas, he'd thought he would miss the sun and the daylight hours. However, Jasper came to discover that the tingling cold and the fresh air was rather pleasurable and he had no intention of returning south to the suffocating heat.

When it came to picking his classes for University, Jasper had majored in History with the hope of one day becoming a teacher in the subject. The past had always been appealing to him, especially growing up in the south. He had a strong draw towards the events of the Civil War, so much so that his Gramps used to say he was a Confederate officer reincarnated. He assumed it was actually because his parents had named him after such a man. His great-great Grandfather had in fact been a Major in the Texas cavalry during the war, so Jasper grew up wanting to learn all about the man where his name came from.

However, after picking History as his main subject, he also chose Art as a side project, and that was what had led to his current career. Though he'd spent a year in the classroom sketching and painting still life and landscapes, it was the practical side of art that had captured his attention. His study group had received a visit from a local man who'd demonstrated the skill of ice sculpting. Though it involved standing out in the freezing cold for two hours, Jasper could recall with perfect clarification of his awe while watching the man turning a big rectangle block of ice into a horse. The detail carved into the sculpture had been so perfect, it could've been real and he'd expected it to snort or stamp its hoof at any moment.

Though his fellow students had only been a little impressed, Jasper was completely and utterly intrigued. On the very same day, he decided his dreams of becoming a History teacher were inadequate and he'd approached the man after the demonstration finished. Completely inspired by what he'd witnessed, Jasper returned to his dorm room half hour later with a few pamphlets, but more importantly, the man's contact number. The very next weekend saw him standing in the artist's back yard, wielding a small chainsaw at a block of ice for the very first time.

Over a decade later, Jasper stood on the same spot his mentor had, carving so easily into a block of ice while letting his imagination take over. Now as a professional ice sculptor, it was he who was giving a demonstration to the art section of the university. Though he was fully aware of the group of eight students gathered around behind the safety tape marking his working zone, he was mostly in his own world, his element, as he created a masterpiece. Each time he attacked a block of ice with his specialised tools, he allowed the artistic nature to take over and would be unaware of what he was actually building until it was half way done.

This gave the students a chance to play the guessing game, attempting to figure out what was forming in front of them. He heard many guesses, but none were close until he himself knew what he was aiming for. Once the main outline of the sculpture was cut, Jasper switched off his power tool and changed to some well sharpened chisels for the finer work.

"Oh, it's a bear!" called a girl from the front of the group, showing the same enthusiasm Jasper had held when he'd been in her position.

Momentarily turning his focus towards her, his dimpled smile set the girl swooning. "Not just any bear. It's a polar bear."

The grand reveal of what his artistic mind and skill was creating earned him a 'no duh' from one of the boys. He wasn't sure which had spoken, but he opted for ignoring the snide comment and returned his focus to his work. With speed and a well-practiced form, soon the polar bear was taking a realistic shape, complete with fur lines, claws and teeth.

It was around the time when Jasper was modelling the claws on the back paws that the art teacher, Mrs Platt whom had taught Jasper fourteen years ago, announced she would return soon as she needed to prepare for her afternoon classes. Her absence left him alone with the eight students, but he didn't mind since his focus was on his work.

While he leaned in closer to scour the fur lines on the polar bear's stomach, the same sarcastic voice from before piped up. "Mind you don't get too close, or they'll arrest you for beastiality."

Rolling his eyes, Jasper ignored the comment, but was rather humbled when the enthusiastic girl at the front spoke on his behalf. "Leave him alone, Paul. Why do you have to be so mean all the time?"

"Because I can be," he answered, then stepped closer to the line. "Yeah, that's it, get in there close enough and give it a cock."

Balking a little at the youth's words, Jasper turned his head and looked up to the student. The boy stood at least six feet tall, even more intimidating to the artist considering he was sitting on his ass upon the snow.

"It's a female," Jasper stated, in order to defend himself from the young man towering over him.

"Don't give me that," Paul said, shaking his head. "Bet you'd just love to carve it a big cock and suck on it, you fucking faggot."

The gasps that filled the area were loud in response to the boy's words, but none more so than the squeal of the attentive girl, as she viewed something she considered horrific. Not so much the tone, but what was said, caused Jasper to become more distracted than he'd previously been. Part way through chiselling the fur lines of the bear's belly, the insult to his sexuality forced his hand, making the sharpened tool slip on the surface of the ice. His cry of pain drew everyone's attentions, as the tool sliced clear through his thermal glove and across his palm.

Jasper dropped the chisel and grasped his hand in a mix of shock and pain. He'd always been an alert worker, mindful of how he wielded the instruments of his craft, but one momentary lapse in concentration resulted in his first ice sculpting injury. As his blood soaked through both gloves, it was soon painting the clean canvas of snow red.

Rolling up onto his knees, he kept a tight pressure on his flaming hand, while an eruption of laughter broke forth from Paul. He'd intended to harm with speech, but had caused bloodshed, and to him that was hilarious.

The girl who'd tried to stand up for Jasper by silencing her classmate, turned abruptly and pushed her way through the group, sprinting back towards the art building. It seemed the other students didn't know what to do, and remained standing there in a mixture of shock and vacancy. Jasper released the pressure from his hand long enough to carefully peel the glove away, dropping the sodden item to the ground. What he saw beneath twisted his stomach. Running diagonally from the base of his palm to just below his index finger, a deep gash was gouged by the offending tool. It was difficult to make out just how far down the wound went, but the amount of blood confirmed it was bad. Had he slipped a moment sooner than he had, his wrist would have been sliced also and he'd have certainly bled to death.

"Make way!" a voice called, the volume increasing as it came nearer. "Come on, move." In what seemed like the next moment, a body knelt beside him and a hand came to rest on his shoulder. "Jasper, are you okay? What happened?"

Peering up a little, finally managing to tear his eyes away from his spilled blood, Jasper discovered his old teacher at his side. Her gaze was lowered toward his hand, and in the next moment she pulled her scarf free from around her neck, bunching it tightly together for thickness, then pressed it to his palm and held it tight. The wound had begun to numb in the cold Alaska air, but the tight pressure reignited the pain and dragged a whimper from his throat.

When he couldn't produce an answer, Mrs Platt turned her focus to her students. "What happened?"

"He was showing off and cut himself," Paul answered her with a shrug, lying so easily through his teeth.

The girl who had fetched their teacher turned on him with a vicious glare. "That's bullshit! You were mocking him and called him a faggot!"

Mrs Platt gasped at the words, but before she could speak to calm them down, Paul started in again. "Shut up, Angela, you lying bitch!"

"That is enough!" The teacher all but screamed, causing Jasper and all eight of the students to jump at her tone. "Get back to class, all of you!"

Throwing a glare at the downed demonstrator, Paul about turned and pushed his way through the rest of his classmates, stomping his way through the snow to get away from the scene. He in no way felt guilty for what he had caused, nor was he sorry. As the others followed in his wake, Mrs Platt began aiding Jasper to his feet.

"You'll be okay, don't panic," she instructed, though her tone was now calmer, aimed at soothing the wounded man she assisted. "Come along, I'll find someone to get you to the hospital."

"My tools," Jasper said, looking back towards the almost finished ice sculpture and his abandoned work items. He didn't want to leave them behind out in the elements. They had cost a rather large amount of money to buy and maintain.

"I'll have someone gather them up and store them for you until you can collect them," she promised. "Right now, you are more important."

Keeping her hand pressed down on the wad of scarf on his palm, she wound her free arm around Jasper's back and directed him towards the school. Opting to not take him into the art department, she walked him towards another door and steered him inside, the teacher's lounge being her destination.

"Jasper, tell me what happened," she said, an instruction rather than a question. "I need to know what happened to report this in the accident book. Is what Angela said true?"

Having been born and raised in the south, Jasper was no stranger to abusive words and negativity about his sexuality. Though he hadn't endured it for a fair few years now, the youth's words had stung him almost as much as the deep gash on his palm. Unable to verbally answer, he managed a stiff nod to confirm the girl, Angela, had been truthful.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Jasper. I'll make sure the dean has a few choice words with Paul about this and I'm sure something can be done to cover the hospital fees for you. It's only right that miscreant pays for what he caused," she told him. "He'll be removed from the school for this, I'm certain. He was on his last warning anyway. I honestly don't know what's caused his bitterness, but it cannot go on."

When they reached the teachers lounge, she helped him inside. By now his bleeding had slowed, but the loss of blood and the shock of the incident had set Jasper's legs like Jello, and he sank easily into the nearest chair.

Instructing him to keep a tight pressure on the scarf on his hand, Mrs Platt left the room and returned in what seemed like seconds later, with a teacher Jasper didn't recognise towing behind her. Gazing upon him, Jasper was shocked by the flash of copper hair, the depth of green eyes rimmed with spectacles, and the very handsome features of the man's face.

"Jasper, this is Mr Masen," she informed him. "He teaches biology, but he's also first aid qualified."

Nodding mutely, Jasper could only gape at the man as he came to crouch in front of where he sat. He introduced himself more casually as Edward and requested to take a look at his hand. Releasing his grip on the scarf, Jasper offered it to the man before him.

Edward opened a bag he'd brought with him and donned a pair of latex gloves, then gingerly eased the blood soaked fabric from the wound. Jasper winced at the discomfort, and one glimpse of the damage to his hand twisted his stomach anew. With a weak groan, he turned his face away and stared at the opposite wall.

"Sorry if I hurt you," Edward offered.

"No, it just looks pretty bad," Jasper responded, glancing back to the man and being careful not to catch sight of the torn flesh again.

Turning his focus to the gloved hand that supported his wrist, Jasper noticed a raised bump beneath the stretched latex, and a clear flash of gold. Typical that the perfect form of hotness kneeling before him was already claimed.

Locating some wipes from the medical bag beside him, Edward began to clean up the dried and clotted blood the best that he could, to assess the damage more easily. When Jasper hissed and twitched his hand in pain, he apologised again and aimed to be more gentle. Peering up, he saw the honey blond man had his face turned away, forcing himself not to watch. From the strong set of his jaw, it seemed his teeth were clenched, as though to keep his stomach contents where they belonged.

Once much of the blood had been cleaned away, Edward was able to see the extent of the wound. It was a clean gash thanks to the sharpness of the tool that had caused it. From what he could tell it was deep, but his main concern of blood loss was void now the flow had stopped. Studying the injury for a moment, he then gathered a sterile cover from his bag. He removed the paper coating and placed it over the gash. After locating a bandage, he began winding it securely around Jasper's hand to help keep the pressure and to stem any further bleeding.

"This is going to need stitches, it's rather severe," he informed them both. "I have a free period, so I can drive you to the hospital."

Jasper shook his head, returning his gaze to the teacher and his hand now the snow white bandaging was blocking his view of the damage. "That won't be necessary, I'll be fine. I'm sure it'll heal on its own."

Edward frowned up at him. "It won't, and if left it'll get infected and hinder the healing even more. This needs to be stitched."

Jasper swallowed the lump forming in his throat. Despite the stud tending to him being married, he still didn't want to appear weak in front of him, having to admit he was afraid. It must have shown in his eyes though. Edward gave him a sympathetic smile and tied off the end of the bandage.

"I'll stay with you at the hospital if you'd like?" he offered.

Jasper shook his head again and eased his hand from the man's light hold. "I'll be just fine. I need to get my tools out of the snow and I'll drive myself to the hospital."

With a quiet sigh, Edward opted not to push the matter and began packing away the medical bag. He'd done all he could and if Jasper insisted on going alone to the hospital, he couldn't tell him otherwise. Standing, he tucked the bag under his arm and peeled off the gloves, tossing them into the trash along with the soiled wipes and the scarf.

Jasper's eyes followed the motion, then turned towards his old art teacher. "I'm sorry about the scarf, Mrs Platt. I'll replace it as soon as I can."

"Nonsense." She shook her head and returned to his side, helping him to stand and made sure he was steady enough to be alone. "You just get yourself tended to. Don't worry about some silly scarf."

When she escorted him outside into the snow once again, she directed him towards the parking lot rather than behind the art department where he'd been sculpting the polar bear. As they neared where he'd left his truck parked, he soon spotted a muscular man standing next to his vehicle, and on the ground beside him was two brown duffel bags that Jasper recognised. One contained his special chainsaw, the other his smaller tools used for detailing. The man had gathered them for him on Mrs Platt's request and was waiting to put them in the truck for him.

"Thank you, Emmett," she said, when they reached the burly man.

He smiled and lightly tapped the rim of his cap. "No problem."

Emmett wore a dark blue boiler suit which said 'McCarthy' on the breast pocket. It seemed to Jasper that he was the janitor of the university. He sure was a hindsight better looking than old Waylon Forge who'd had the position when Jasper had attended the school. Just like when he'd been faced with Mr Masen, Jasper felt a stirring deep within him, but as though mirroring the earlier moments, he soon spotted a ring adorning Emmett's finger. Another married and out of bounds hotty.

Fishing his keys from his pants pocket, Jasper stepped forward unaided and unlocked the back door of his truck. As soon as it was opened, Emmett hefted up the two bags and deposited them carefully on the back seat. Thanking him, Jasper closed the door and opened the other to climb in behind the steering wheel, but was stilled by Mrs Platt's voice.

"Are you sure you'll be okay to drive, Jasper?" she asked. "I don't feel right letting you brave the roads alone with only one hand."

Emmett perked up a little at that. "Hell no, that's far too dangerous. You can't be driving around these roads one handed. Give me the keys, I'll drive you myself."

Stunned by the concern and genuine kindness of the two people, Jasper wasn't sure how to react. He knew if he allowed this Emmett person to drive him, he'd likely insist on hanging around also, just like Edward had. Unable to bear the humiliation he would feel when his usual brave exterior vanished, he shook his head and slid into his seat.

"I'll be fine, thanks," he told them. "It's an automatic. I can drive it one handed without needing to shift."

"Jasper, I'm not sure you should try it." Mrs Platt attempted again, but her words fell on deaf ears.

"Really, I'll be fine. Thank you both for everything though, and thank Mr Masen for me please, I should have myself," he replied, realising he'd been rude by not doing so.

With a resigned nod, she allowed him to close his door and after turning over the engine, they watched as he pulled his truck carefully out of the parking lot. Fresh snow had begun to fall and he took to the roads cautiously, despite having chains on his tyres. His hand continued to throb while he rested it palm up on his knee, steering the wheel with his good hand as he drove. Jasper considered just returning home and curling up in front of his fireplace, but the insistent pain of his wound told him that Edward had been right; he needed to have it seen to by a doctor.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. The rest is from my imagination.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Though the hospital wasn't far away, the journey took Jasper nearly twenty minutes to drive the route with his new disability. Inside, he cursed the boy who had mocked his sexuality. If the asshole had just stayed quiet, giving him a mental ribbing rather than voicing anything aloud in front of the whole class, then he wouldn't have slipped and stabbed himself in the hand.

After parking at the hospital, Jasper locked his truck and glanced to the bandage wrapped around his palm. It was beginning to turn red as new blood soaked the fabric. With a deep sigh and a nervous tremble, he entered the building and approached the front desk. A nurse was tapping away at the computer when he reached her. She smiled warmly as she greeted him and asked the nature of his visit. Holding up his hand, her expression turned sympathetic and rather than directing him to a seat to fill out the paperwork, she offered him a chair at the desk and wrote it out for him herself. The obvious way she kept smiling shyly and batting her eyelids told Jasper she was interested, but she held no attraction to him, owing to the lack of male genetalia.

Once his form was filled, he sat across the waiting room and sipped anxiously from a cup of water from the cooler. He was plenty aware Edward had known what he was talking about. His hand was going to need stitching, but his irrational fear of needles was going to be a problem. By the time his name was called to be seen, he'd downed four cups of water and was clammy and shaking.

Following the nurse, she led him to a private room and instructed him to sit on the bed. Noticing the way he was almost green looking, she asked if he was okay, which he nodded to jerkily. With another flirting smile, she left the room. Sitting alone for what seemed like hours, but could have only been a minute or two, Jasper gazed nervously around the room.

When the door opened, he half expected to see the nurse again, perhaps even to ask him for his contact number, but it wasn't so. In place of the nurse was a man, wearing green scrubs beneath a white doctor coat. He closed the door and scanned the file he was handed while he took a seat by the bed.

"Mr Whitlock?" he asked, and smiled as Jasper gave a nod. "I'm Dr Cullen, but you can call me Carlisle if you'd like. I understand from your paperwork you had an incident with a sharp work tool, is that correct?"

Currently unable to find his voice, Jasper nodded again. He was too distracted by both the fear of being in the hospital room, but also by the very attractive man sitting before him. Everything about him was perfect, from his blonde hair down to the rather arousing hospital attire he wore, clinging to him in all of the right places. The most perfect part of him though resided on his hand - a lack of a wedding ring. Unlike the two men Jasper had already found attractive today, this time his inner gaydar was ringing a loud klaxon in his skull.

"Well, Mr Whitlock..."

"Jasper," he corrected.

Carlisle smiled at the offer of a first name. Though it was there black and white in front of him on the admittance form, he'd kept things formal by the use of a last name. Jasper's acceptance of him turning casual was even better.

"Jasper," he nodded a little. "Well, let's take a look at the damage shall we?"

Carlisle set the form aside on the bed and shuffled his chair closer. Being careful, he untied the knot in the bandage and began to unwind it. The further down the layer, the darker the soaked through blood became. Tossing the soiled bandage into a medical trash can, he eased the wad of cloth aside and Jasper hastily averted his eyes.

"Well, that's certainly a nasty wound, Jasper," the doctor confirmed. "How exactly did this happen?"

Wheeling his chair aside, Carlisle made quick work of gathering some equipment as Jasper answered. "I was doing a demonstration at the university. I slipped and the chisel went right across my hand."

"Hmm, what kind of demonstration was it?" Carlisle asked.

He pulled his chair back to the bed, along with a table on wheels that now held an assortment of objects. Jasper couldn't help but glance to the items, and instantly wished he hadn't. Among them was a syringe with a covered needle point, and another set of curved needles apparently for stitching up wounds. The sight of them turned his stomach and even looking away didn't help; the faintness began.

His body slackened before he could take a full breath, and the last thing he heard was the doctor shouting his name before the blackness consumed him. Carlisle moved, catching him as he keeled forwards, before he could slip off the bed and onto the floor. Pushing against him, he maneuvered the younger man so he was sitting sideways on, then lowered him carefully to lay on the bed. For a short moment, he just stared at the man laid stretched out before him, taking in his features and his honey blond locks of hair. He couldn't deny the young man was very attractive, but first and foremost he was his patient, and he pushed away the slight stirrings he felt towards him, needing to be professional.

Hurrying to the small sink in the room, he found a fresh cloth and wet it beneath the cold tap, then returned to his patient's side. Folding the cloth, he dabbed gently around Jasper's neck, hoping the cold would ease his racing pulse, then held it to his forehead as he lightly tapped his cheeks.

"Jasper?" He gave a few more taps to his face. "Jasper, come on, wake up."

After a few slightly frantic moments, Jasper released a soft groan at the slaps to his face and raised his good hand, attempting to swat the doctor's away. Managing to open his eyes, he saw the concerned expression in the man's features.

"Polar bear," he managed to murmur.

"Excuse me?" Carlisle asked in confusion, studying his patient carefully.

"I was sculpting a polar bear out of a block of ice," he continued. "For the art class at the university."

Realising that despite the fainting spell, Jasper was answering his question as though nothing had happened, Carlisle smiled and lowered the cloth to dab away the sweat from the man's pale face.

"You just blacked out, Jasper. Are you okay?" he asked.

"I can't do this," Jasper said, his panic beginning to rise again.

"Can't do what?" the doctor asked. "You need to remain calm, or you'll faint again. Come on, nice deep breaths now, in and out."

Following the professional instructions, Jasper sucked a deep breath into his lungs and held it for a second or two, feeling the nauseas fading as he did so, then released the air and did the same again. With Carlisle's coaxing, the breathing helped a lot and his pulse rate calmed again.

"I don't like needles," Jasper whispered after a moment.

Glancing to the table beside him, Carlisle studied the needles, then returned his gaze to his patient. "Your wound is rather deep, Jasper. I'll need to stitch it closed for you, but first I'll have to numb the area."

Jasper shook his head and grit his teeth, his stomach flipping with the thought of a needle coming into contact with his body. "I can't."

"It'll all be okay." Carlisle thought for a moment, glancing around the room, then leaned past his patient. There was a lamp attached to the wall and he flipped the switch, illuminating the area to aid in his work. "I want you to keep your eyes up by that lamp, Jasper. Focus on that, not what I'm doing, okay?"

Swallowing thickly, he gave a nod, turning his eyes to the lamp. Squinting against the light, Carlisle angled it so it wouldn't harm his eyes, but so the bulb cast it's glow downwards to his hand so he could work easier. Adjusting the patient's hand into the right position, he gathered up the syringe of anaesthetic to numb the area where he would be stitching. It was clear to him that the young man was going to be panicking through much of this, but he hoped he could calm him in some way, at least long enough to tend to the wound in as painless a way as he possibly could. He suddenly had a strong urge to comfort him.

"Wait, Doc, I'm not ready," Jasper gasped, his body tensing up, but to his credit he kept his eyes locked on the metal surround of the wall lamp.

"It's okay, I'm not doing anything just yet," Carlisle replied. He thought for a moment, then a solution came to him. By keeping Jasper talking, or listening, it would help as a distraction. "So you're an ice sculptor by trade? How did that come about?"

Not falling for the method, Jasper was quiet for a moment, then with a little coaxing he finally responded. "I was a student at the university some years back. I took art as a minor and a guy came to show us ice sculpting. I contacted him later wanting to give it a try and I've been doing it since."

"Sounds rather interesting. I've seen it done at the Winterfest every year, it's really impressive," Carlisle answered, continuing to hold still and not rush into injecting the numbing agent too soon.

"Yeah, I've been to Winterfest every year since I moved here. I never really paid much attention to sculpting before it was shown in my art class. Now I love it. I was going to enter into the contest this year, but I won't be able to now." Jasper's tone turned somber with that revelation.

"Yes, I dare say you may not be making ice sculptures for a few weeks, maybe even a month until your hand is fully healed." As Carlisle said 'hand', he eased the tip of the needle carefully into Jasper's palm, close to the torn skin. Jasper winced and began to move his hand, but the doctor held his wrist firmly. "Focus on the lamp, Jasper. You're doing really good. What about the bear you made at the university, couldn't you enter that?"

Jasper was silent for a moment, until the sting of the needle faded and he un-grit his teeth. "It wasn't finished, and it'll be gone by the time Winterfest comes around. I don't have the space or money to store it for a few days."

"That would be a bit of a problem," Carlisle agreed. "Shame, but at least there's the rest of Winterfest to enjoy."

That wasn't much consolation to Jasper. He knew the festival could be enjoyable in other areas, but since his hobby of sculpting had been discovered, that had been the main attraction of Winterfest for him. Before he could say as much, a new sting ignited in his hand and he groaned, gritting his teeth again to try and not hurl.

"Yeah, I'll still go to it," he confirmed when the pain passed. "I just won't enjoy it as much."

"Hmm." Carlisle glanced to him, seeing he was still staring at the wall lamp. With a smile, he set the needle aside on the table and gathered up the prepared hooked needle and thread. Giving a slight prick of the needle to his patients palm, his lack of response confirmed it was numbed enough and the doctor began closing the wound. "So what exactly happened today? Did your tool just slip on the ice?"

"Yeah," Jasper answered, then frowned a little. "No."

Stilling as his shoulders shook with mirth, Carlisle chuckled and peeked to his face. "Which is it? Yes or no?"

Jasper nipped his lip thinking about it. "Both, really."

"Hmm." Carlisle looked back down to his hand and snipped the end thread from the first stitch, then moved onto the next. "So what happened?"

"Some punk kid in the class distracted me, then the chisel slipped and impaled me," he answered.

"It's not an impalement, it's just a deep gash. Given a few weeks it'll be good as almost new, it'll leave a scar though." The doctor informed him. "How did he distract you?"

As he continued stitching without his patient's knowledge, Jasper kept his gaze locked on the metal frame of the lamp. "He decided it would be funny to out me in front of his whole class. Thinking about it, the joke is actually on him. I'm not an obvious gay man, am I?"

Carlisle raised his head and studied him a few seconds before returning to his work. "No, I wouldn't say that you are."

"So the kid has gaydar then, and the fact he outed a non-obvious gay means he's closeted. Boy, if the class realise that too, he's practically shot himself in the foot." Jasper gave a short chuckle at that realisation.

Smiling at the sound and realising his patient was more at ease, Carlisle quickened his work to get this apparently traumatic for Jasper event over and done with. "Yes, it sounds to me as though he has."

When the final stitch was knotted and trimmed, Carlisle set the items on the table and lightly dabbed the stray blood from around the wound with a cloth. Adding a thin layer of antiseptic to aid the healing, he placed a fresh sterile cloth over the stitched injury and began bandaging.

Feeling his forearm being lifted a little, Jasper finally turned his focus from the lamp and gazed down to his hand. The wound was out of sight and he was amazed to discover he was being covered already.

"Is that it?" he asked.

Carlisle smiled and met his patient's gaze with his own. "Yep, all done. That wasn't at all bad now, was it?"

Awed, Jasper shook his head. "It only stung for a moment, then I didn't feel a thing. I didn't even know you were stitching."

Carlisle chuckled and tied the end of the bandage. "Then perhaps sometimes needles aren't all bad if they take the pain away." Finished with his hand, he wheeled the table away and retrieved the admission form. He plucked a pen from his coat pocket and began writing some notes. "I'm going to prescribe you some antibiotics to stave off any infection, and some pain relief also. Keep the bandage dry and try not to use the hand too much, we don't want to be right back here having to stitch it again. I'd like you to come back in a week and if it's healed well enough, I'll remove the stitches."

"Wow, it's as simple as that?" Jasper asked.

Carlisle smiled and stood up. "Yes. Now, sit up slowly and take your time. I'll be back in a moment with the medication."

With that, Carlisle vacated the room and Jasper couldn't help but lower his gaze, watching the scrub clad butt as it walked away. Slowly sitting up, he studied the bandage around his hand. He couldn't feel any pain, but knew he would once the anesthetic wore off.

When Carlisle returned a few minutes later, he held out a bag that contained the medicines and directed Jasper how often to take them, then walked with him from the room. "Will you be okay getting home?"

"Yeah, I drove here myself, I'll be alright getting back." Stopping at the automatic doors, he turned to the handsome doctor and offered his good hand. "Thank you, Dr Cullen."

"You're welcome, Mr Whitlock," Carlisle answered, shaking the younger man's hand.

"Jasper," he reminded him, with a faint frown.

Following the younger man's use of his title and surname, he had answered in kind. The fact he'd corrected him felt like a positive sign to him. It was as though Jasper was hoping for a little more than just the treatment he had already given him.

Again answering in kind, the doctor smiled brightly, then gave a playful wink. "Carlisle."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Recognisable characters belong to Stephenie Meyers. The rest is my imagination.**

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><p><strong>Chapter Three<strong>

Three days after the incident at the university, Jasper received a call from the dean, telling him the matter of what happened was being dealt with. The student, Paul, was removed from his classes without refund and was having to return back to Washington State because of it. Not only that, but his rather furious parents agreed to cover the hospital fee for Jasper's treatment and medications. Though this news was good, Jasper also felt a little bad for Paul. The kid seemed to have been striking out more in fear of his own sexuality than anything else. Perhaps his parents weren't too supportive in the matter.

Either way, the news wasn't going to damper Jasper's mood any further than it already had. It was the night of Winterfest, and though he was looking forward to walking the streets of his Alaska home town and getting into the festive mood with Christmas just a week away, he knew his depression would increase once he reached the ice sculpting section of the festival.

The snow was falling steadily by the time the sound of chainsaws reached his ears. With an oversized glove stretched across his healing hand to keep his fingers warm, he tugged the zipper of his jacket tighter under his chin and tucked in his scarf while he made his way through the crowd. All around, the aromas of food assaulted his senses. There were stalls every few feet selling a wide variety of things. He'd seen gingerbread, mulled wine, spiced apples and popcorn strings. Though he wasn't hungry, the scents were enticing.

He kept on his path though, until he reached the cordoned off area where the sculpting was taking place. Though it wasn't incredibly popular, the ice sculpting competition had been his favourite for years, despite never being good enough to win first place. He'd managed a fourth position the previous two years, and a sixth before then. He was getting better, but he had to be as good as his mentor to win

While he stood among the flying ice powder coming from the work, he studied each forming model with awe. He'd wanted to take part, hoping his new polar bear project would have been good enough, but viewing the entries now he realised it wouldn't have. There were various sculptures being made, including what was clearly a suckup attempt by one person who was recreating the image of the judge's face. It wasn't too bad, until his concentration slipped and he accidentally hacked off the nose.

Jasper chuckled at that and studied the sculpture that was by far the best there. A guy was making a very intricate and ironic masterpiece - the Titanic, complete with the iceberg that sank it. It was clear to Jasper that he would take the first place position.

A shiver ran through him and his breath floated on the air in a smog. Watching it a moment, he became completely distracted until a voice sounded behind him.

"I thought I would find you here."

Startled, Jasper turned and his gaze locked onto that of someone he hadn't expected to see. Dr Cullen was standing there, his light hair peeking from beneath a woolen cap, and the tip of his nose and cheeks blushed with a red tinge from the cold.

He smiled at the younger man's reaction to his voice and presence. "It seems you weren't expecting to find me here, either."

Jasper shook his head, then managing to find his voice, he cleared his throat. "Uh, no, I wasn't."

"Well, you said you would attend the festival and I figured you'd no doubt be watching the ice sculpting," Carlisle stated, focusing past the man's shoulder to admire the statues being created.

Jasper glanced behind, then back to the doctor and smiled. "Well, you found me."

Chuckling, Carlisle looked back to him, then down towards the very thick looking glove on his patient's hand. "How are you doing?"

Jasper followed his gaze. "It's okay, I think. I haven't dared take a look at it and it hurts a bit."

"That's likely the stitches tightening. You haven't been using it, have you?" Carlisle asked.

Jasper shook his head. "No, I'm not that crazy. It hurts enough not moving it at all."

Smiling, Carlisle met his gaze. He studied him for a moment in silence, then shifted his footing a little. "Do you think it would hurt your hand more if...we were to get some hot chocolate?"

Jasper stared at him, shocked. "You...want to get some hot chocolate with me?"

The pink tinge on his cheeks increased somewhat and the doctor gave a small nod. "I mean, if you'd like to. It's okay if you don't, I just thought..."

"I'd like to," Jasper rushed out, the words leaving his lips before his brain had even told them to.

Carlisle's breath escaped with relief and he smiled. "You would?"

Nodding, Jasper mirrored his expression and shrugged a little. "It is pretty cold. I wouldn't mind getting some warmth."

Turning as one, they walked away from the sculpting area and back along the street to the many stalls. When they found one that sold some nice hot chocolate, Carlisle purchased two, complete with marshmallows and cream, and a sprinkling of cinnamon on top.

As Jasper lapped up the cream from the top of his cup, Carlisle stared, his eyes following the white treat on the younger man's tongue as it disappeared between his lips. Licking his suddenly dry ones, the doctor diverted his gaze and sipped his own drink.

"I got a phone call this morning, so I'm actually rather glad to have seen you tonight because I'm not sure how it works," Jasper said, breaking the silence.

"Oh? What's that?" Carlisle asked, walking away from the stall and found a bench to sit on to watch the parade.

"Well, you remember I said it was a student's fault I was injured?" When Carlisle nodded, he continued, "well, he's been dismissed from the university, and his family will be covering my hospital costs. I just don't know how that works or anything."

"It's already taken care of," Carlisle confirmed, watching the man sitting beside him. "Actually, it's part of why I came to see if I could find you tonight. I saw your file earlier today as the payment was being arranged."

"So you came to tell me that?" Jasper asked.

Carlisle shook his head, then set his cup balanced on his knee after taking another sip of the warming drink. "Well, partly yes, but no."

Jasper frowned at the confusing response, then remembering his visit to the hospital a few days ago, he smiled and lightly elbowed the doctor on the arm. "Which is it? Yes or no?"

Carlisle looked to him, mirroring Jasper's earlier response also. "Both, really." With Jasper still looking baffled, he elaborated. "Well, I wasn't sure if you were aware about the bill being covered for you...but I also hoped to see you tonight just for the sake of seeing you."

"For the sake of seeing me?" Jasper asked, quirking an eyebrow as he fought not to smirk. "Really, why is that?"

Groaning quietly, Carlisle raised his cup from his lap. "You're not going to make me say it, are you?"

Watching intently, Jasper admired the way the apple bobbed in the doctor's throat as he sipped his drink. When the cup lowered, his smirk widened further as he saw a dab of cream left behind. He reached out his good hand and lightly wiped it away. Carlisle turned his head to meet his gaze.

"Doc...I may not be ice sculpting for about a month, but I'm sure I can manage cooking Christmas Eve dinner." The doctor frowned a little at his words, but Jasper smiled and enlightened him a little, though somewhat awkwardly. "I mean, if you'd like. It's okay if you don't want to, I just thought..."

"I'd like to," Carlisle rushed out, the words leaving his lips before his brain had even told them to.

Jasper smiled, raising his own cup and tapped it lightly to the side of the other's, before they both took a drink.

**xXx**

Groaning with the overfilled sensation, Jasper stretched out and lightly patted his extended stomach with his healed hand. As he lay back and watched the reflections of the twinkling fairy lights on the ceiling of his living room, he took a few deep breaths to ease the discomfort in his belly.

His hand was suddenly lifted into the air and turned a little, the glow of the firelight illuminating his palm. The stitches had been removed a few days before, and left behind was a fairly clean scar. Luckily there had been no nerve damage, or any other lasting problem. The skin was still sensitive and the cold caused it to ache, but just now, cradled in a becoming familiar hand, it felt good as new.

Turning his head, Jasper gazed upon the doctor lying beside him, scrutinizing the healing line carefully in the dim firelight. Easing his hand from Carlisle's grip, he smiled and rolled so he was facing him more.

"Hey, none of that. It's Christmas, you're off duty, so no doctor mode allowed," Jasper insisted.

Carlisle chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, rolling to mirror the man beside him, blue eyes gazing into brown and they stared at each other. "You can take the doctor out of the hospital, but you can't take the medical training out of the doctor."

Jasper quirked an eyebrow. "Is that some strange twist on the saying about leading the horse to water, but not being able to make it drink?"

The doctor shrugged. "I don't know. To be honest, I'm so food drunk right now, I'm not even thinking straight."

Jasper knew what he meant, since he too felt so drowsy following the large Christmas dinner he'd cooked for them. He was glad his palm had healed enough for the stitches to be removed, otherwise it would have been a lot harder to achieve.

"Yeah, I feel the same, so if I ramble something completely foolish, I apologise in advance." He smirked.

Carlisle chuckled and shook his head, then raising his hand he tentatively brushed his fingers through the honey blond bangs obscuring part of Jasper's face. By brushing them back and tucking them behind his ear, his view of the chestnut brown eyes increased, and he smiled.

"I wouldn't worry about that," he assured him. "I rather like it when you ramble. I like listening to your accent."

"I don't have an accent anymore." Jasper frowned and tilted his head a little.

"Oh you do, believe me." Carlisle smiled and dropped his hand to the floor. "And I like it a lot."

Jasper stared at the man lying in front of him, roaming his eyes over the light hair and the handsome features. He wanted nothing more than to give into the stirrings in his body, to lean in and claim the man's lips with his own. However, he wasn't sure if it was too sudden. Instead, he drew back a little further from the doctor and rolled away, then with a deep groan he used the strength of his stomach muscles to pull himself to a sitting position.

"I um...I have something for you." Not bothering to get up properly, he shuffled on his butt nearer to the tree and leaned over, pulling out a wrapped package from beneath. "It's not much, but um...here."

Shimmying back over to the doctor, he lay beside him in his previous position and held out the gift to him. Carlisle frowned, looking over the bright wrapping paper complete with a bow, then raised his gaze to the man before him.

"You got me a present?" he asked, surprised.

"Well it _is_ Christmas," Jasper answered, rolling his eyes at him.

Carlisle hadn't thought to buy a gift, he hadn't even known he'd be in Jasper's home for so long either. Knowing the man might struggle with making dinner with his healing hand, he'd arrived extra early and helped out all he could. Feeling bad for it, he was hesitant to take the gift, and Jasper all but thrust it into his hand.

Inhaling a deep breath, the doctor sat up enough to lean on his elbow and began tearing at the paper. The first thing he glimpsed was what seemed to be grey fur. He frowned and poked it lightly, hoping it wasn't a living thing. The item was soft to the touch, like a plush toy. Unwrapping the rest, he stared in a bewilderment at the sight of the toy in his hand.

"Bugs Bunny?" he asked, lifting his eyes to Jasper.

The younger man smiled and reached over, catching hold of the rabbit's hand. There was a solid piece hidden inside and he gave it a firm squeeze. A chomping noise came from the toy, then in the classic Bugs Bunny voice, it said, "Eeeeeh, what's up, Doc?"

Chuckling, Jasper watched the doctor's expression, anxious to see if he thought the small toy was as funny as he had found it. Carlisle's face was neutral for a moment, then lightly grasping the rabbit's hand, he gave it a firm squeeze, smiling as Bugs repeated himself.

"This is actually really good," he concluded after a moment.

Jasper released a relieved breath and smiled. "I'm glad you didn't take offense or anything. I saw it in a store window yesterday, and when I saw it had that catchphrase, I just had to get it for you."

Smiling, Carlisle set it down between them on the rug and raised his blue gaze to the man chuckling in front of him. The gesture of buying him a Christmas gift so soon after their meeting was touching, and so perfect also.

"I have something for you too," he told him, thinking it up quickly on the spot.

"Oh, Carlisle, you didn't have to get me anything," Jasper said, shaking his head.

"Well, neither did you, but you did," he retorted.

Jasper nipped his lip thinking a moment, then nodded in agreement since he couldn't deny that at all. Carlisle's eyes lowered, watching him gnawing lightly on his plump lower lip, then leaning in a little closer, he pressed his lips tentatively to Jasper's. The younger man gasped, releasing his lip from his teeth, causing his mouth to part and the kiss to deepen a small amount.

After far less a time than either man would have liked, Carlisle pulled back and watched the brown gaze warily, in case he'd overstepped a mark by being too forward too quickly. Jasper stared right back at him, before peeking out his tongue to moisten his lips further.

"What was that for?" he asked, a little breathlessly.

Carlisle smiled at the dazed tone of his voice. "Well, I didn't have time to get you a gift, and I wasn't really expecting you to get me one either."

"So a kiss is my gift?" Jasper asked. The doctor gave a nod and lowered his gaze, staring at the patterns on the rug beneath him. Jasper studied his reaction for a moment, then smiled and reached out, tilting Carlisle's chin up to meet his eyes once more. "I love it. Thank you."

Smiling, he leaned a little closer and Carlisle met him in the middle, savouring a second unplanned present. As the kiss deepened, both men edged nearer until their bodies were flushed. Shifting for comfort, Jasper wriggled a little more, before a click sounded beneath him.

"Eeeeeeeeh, what's up, Doc?"

**The End**

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading. Let me know what you think of it.**


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